Mine to Crave (Mine 4)

“Can we get beignets?” Jasmine asked him quickly. “At that place along the riverfront? I’ve heard people talk about it.”

He nodded.

Her smiled beamed even more.

He didn’t speak again until they were in his car and his driver-slash-security detail-was leading them through the city.

“You know,” Drake finally mused as he carefully watched her, “most women get this excited over diamonds, not beignets.”

“I’m not most women.” And she was back to having her nose pressed to the nearest window. She stared out at the city as if it were the most amazing sight that she’d ever seen.

He kept his eyes on her.

His driver, Matthew, dropped them off near the riverfront.

“I hear jazz!” Jasmine exclaimed excitedly.

That was because a man was playing a saxophone less than ten feet away.

Jasmine hurried through the crowd and stopped near the man. Then she just listened, apparently spellbound, as he played.

Drake kept watching her.

She was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. What was real with her? The enthusiasm and happiness she was showing now? Or the tricks she’d shown back at the Arrow? The lock picking. The seduction.

He put money down for the musician and led Jasmine toward her beignets. When she bit into one, powdered sugar slid over her upper lip.

His gaze locked on that lip.

Jasmine moaned. “Incredible.” She devoured the beignet, licking her lips, savoring the sugar.

“Sweet,” Drake muttered.

Her gaze slid to his. “You should…have a taste.”

He leaned toward her and licked away the soft powder near her upper lip.

Her breath caught. “Drake…”

He pulled back. Stared at her.

“Thank you.”

Drake didn’t like it when she thanked him. He didn’t want her gratitude, not for buying her a simple beignet. He wanted…her.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Her head turned at the sound, and she stared out at the river.

“We should go,” he told her, aware that his voice sounded gruff. “A storm’s coming.” He could smell it in the air.

“I’ve never minded a storm.”

No, she wouldn’t.

They stood there, staring at the water, as the raindrops began to fall.

Then, because he couldn’t help himself, because he wanted her and he was going to take exactly what he wanted, Drake turned Jasmine in his arms. He kissed her. Tasted the sweetness on her lips. Tasted the rain.

Tasted desire.

Her hands wound around his neck as she leaned into him. She was kissing him eagerly, seeming to hold nothing back.

Good. Because from that moment forward, there would be no stopping or holding back.

Not for either of them.

He had a house in the French Quarter, one away from the wildness of Bourbon Street, and he took her there. His driver was close, and he picked them up quickly. Within minutes, they were heading down the lane that would take Drake to his house.

Then Jasmine is mine.

Jasmine…Now that they were in the car, She was back to staring out the window. And he was watching her. Drake…liked watching her.

Her hair was wet around her shoulders. Her clothes clung tightly to her body.

He wanted her naked.

He’d have her that way.

When they reached his house, he hurried from the car.

“It’s incredible,” Jasmine whispered as she stared up at the house. Illuminated by faint porch lights, the Victorian stood strong in the surrounding darkness. “Gorgeous.”

He caught her fingers with his. The rain was still falling, but Jasmine didn’t seem to care. She was laughing as they hurried inside.

For a moment, he almost wanted to laugh, too.

He took her upstairs. Pulled her against him. The wet clothes let him feel every inch of her body. Tight nipples, pebbled hard.

From the cold?

From need?

He stared into her eyes. “I’m going to fuck you.”

Her lashes flickered. “You could try making love to me.”

His jaw locked. “This isn’t about love.” Emotions didn’t enter into the equation for him.

Sadness swept over her face for an instant. He wondered if she’d pull back. If she’d try to play him.

Instead, her hand slid over the stubble that lined his jaw. “Maybe one day, you’ll change your mind. Maybe one day, you’ll love someone.”

He caught her hand. Held it in a too tight grip. “I want to fuck you. Now.” He couldn’t be more clear.

Her wet hair slid over her shoulders. “Then what are you waiting for?” The sadness was gone, and he wasn’t sure if it had ever really been there. He just knew he had the woman he wanted in his arms, and Drake wasn’t going to wait any longer.

He stripped her. Peeled those wet clothes from her body even as she kicked away her heels.